


lunar spell

by idlesong



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, mid-autumn festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlesong/pseuds/idlesong
Summary: Yukhei and Guanheng spend a slow day off enjoying their traditions of the Mid-Autumn festival.
Relationships: Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	lunar spell

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by hencas's actual mid-autumn festival antics this year! a forewarning that i wasn't able to include them watching shrek together at 6am but be assured it happens in this au too.
> 
> i have to thank [any](https://twitter.com/johntographique) for the idea + inadvertently coaxing me into hencas nation ♡

In his dreams, Yukhei can see the world from afar. He turns imperceptibly and waits for an offering of love. The yearning is strongest when he draws closer. Even with no oxygen he wants for nothing but gravity’s intentional pull, to pour into that gaze his ceaseless witness of the stars.

In vacant passageways he sees the wind dance. It twirls around bodies of street lamps and whistles a hollow melody. How it rushes through won’t hasten him. Even if it taps at the window-panes and crawls through the pipes it won’t be let in. In the day he’ll finally have time.

The morning comes slowly, begins with a kiss against his neck. Guanheng curls about him with the sleepy fibres of a burnt-out September. Both of their bodies, attracting the warmth of the room to stay between them, should be enough to still every day’s obligations. If it weren’t for usual callings they would hardly stay apart.

The sunlight is refused entry through the closed curtains. Yukhei won’t let it dictate his time today. Stared at through Guanheng’s sleepy eyes, open at this time by habit, he wants to be grateful. He would say thank you, out loud, to every peony print on the comforter. The one that his mother bought them last winter in case the furnace in his chest ever goes out. Guanheng is surrounded by a garden filled with feathers and the flame grows taller.

“Good morning,” Yukhei whispers, and the morning is pleased.

“Good morning,” Guanheng repeats.

The praise coaxes the daylight to come in, welcome as a friend and not a keeper. They push closer to each other. They savour the silence, spinning slowly with the light until the air prolongs their exchange of secretive smiles in bed.

The kettle is asleep on the hot stovetop late into the afternoon. Yukhei wraps his arms around the back of Guanheng’s body and hums. Guanheng shifts his weight between his feet. They tip side-to-side in time with the snoring sounds of the water. Yukhei presses a kiss into Guanheng’s shoulder. The air is the same but his skin turns warm.

As Guanheng turns around, Yukhei withdraws his arms from the embrace to frame him into the kitchen counter. “I love you,” Guanheng murmurs, and Yukhei draws his head closer. They kiss slowly because they can today. Guanheng runs his hands along the sides of Yukhei’s body in gentle admiration.

One of Yukhei’s hands climbs into the back of Guanheng’s hair, his fingers gently twisting the strands. Guanheng breathes hot into Yukhei’s mouth. It throws Yukhei into a circling want.

The kettle complains about its shrinking volume of water. They do their best to ignore it until its shriek of steam. When Yukhei pulls back, Guanheng is flushed, his teeth baring a story of contentment. Before their tea takes precedence, Yukhei tries to memorize the view: the picture of Guanheng’s pinkish skin, his shirt hanging loosely to his shoulders, lips sweetly swollen.

“Oh. And I love you too,” Yukhei responds with a lazy smile.

The delicate scent of spring-picked baihao pours into the room as Guanheng quarters a mooncake. A yellow yolk peeks through and reminds Yukhei of the other life in his dream.

“Don’t pour the water in yet,” Guanheng says after Yukhei fills their teapot with silver needle leaves. “It’ll scorch.”

“I remember,” Yukhei assures him. “Dejun only sent me a dozen texts about it.” Messages which were preceded by a long-winded description of how the sun looked over the mountains in Fuding.

The plush of Guanheng’s fingertips brush against the corners of Yukhei’s mouth, his tongue suddenly invaded by the taste of lotus seed. He watches Guanheng lick caramelized coating off his fingers and feels envious of sugar.

“What?” Guanheng asks when he catches him staring.

For once, Yukhei gets to see how his world turns.

The sky has grown considerably darker by the time they arrive. Guanheng had fallen asleep during the drive, sometime during their procession in the backed-up traffic of those leaving the city. His fingers were loosely interlocked with Yukhei’s as he slept, and Yukhei’s effort to make sure he didn’t let go made turning into the sandy lot a challenging task.

“We’re here,” he says, finally withdrawing his hand to run his palm against Guanheng’s hair.

“It’s dark.” Guanheng says with a yawn. His stomach is filled with so much seafood that he’s lethargic.

“We won’t have to wait so long for them to start.” Even with the windows rolled up, Yukhei can hear water crashing against the shore.

“Why do we do this every year?”

Yukhei reaches over to unbuckle Guanheng’s seatbelt, taking advantage of their proximity to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll remember when we see them.”

Several children run past them laughing, bright red lanterns in their hands. It makes Yukhei think of home, his other home, where he used to dash into the illuminated streets of the festival to get a good look at the fire dragon dance.

Guanheng stands close to him when it begins, a few sparks shooting into the sky and quickly fizzing out. The lights grow greater in intensity and vivacity with each new launch. They pop into round shapes and break into streamers.

Yukhei steals glances at Guanheng’s profile alight with all the colour above them. Even now with his senses inundated with so many imitation supernovas, his focus is divided. He can’t help the circular route of his attention.

The mid-autumn breeze should be brisk against his skin, but the warmth in his chest extends to the rest of his body and glows where Guanheng touches: his shoulder, the width of his back, the expanse of his cheek. During the roaring displays of light Guanheng whispers indelicate promises into Yukhei’s ears until they’re bright red.

“When we’re home…” he starts; “…Until the morning,” he ends.

Guanheng’s brazen and made of gold. Yukhei kisses him so hard that they miss the loudest, most extraordinary finale of fireworks. His eyes closed, he still sees them. He feels them burst in his head and his heart. He wraps Guanheng in a tight embrace and he remembers them forever.

They’ve been kissing for hours, Yukhei thinks, possibly days. The drive home had been nearly unbearable with Guanheng’s hands inching across every accessible part of Yukhei’s body from the passenger seat. During the whole of the hour spent on the freeway, they looked at each other with expressions of equal amusement and affection.

Earlier on in their relationship Yukhei might have just pushed Guanheng against the nearest flat surface, regardless of whether they had made it back to their apartment or not, but time’s changed him. He prefers the routine—lips locked as soon as the set of keys is hung, careful backward steps into the most familiar room, arms wrapped around his favourite person, intentions to never let go.

His mind is foggy, every touch a new jolt of discovery in the dark. They had discarded their clothes almost immediately, but all the rest happens slowly. Guanheng hovers over Yukhei, their hands roaming over each other, scanning for any remaining secrets embedded in their skin. Everything Yukhei loves he finds at the ends of his fingers. His thumb swipes across Guanheng’s bottom lip and that feeling grows stronger.

Guanheng laughs into the space above Yukhei’s collarbone when he whines, at the juncture of his legs being parted and Guanheng’s hand getting sticky with his precome. The hot breaths of muffled amusement are too much against his overheating skin.

“Enough already,” Yukhei says.

“I love to take my time,” Guanheng says, and Yukhei knows this, agrees with it, but he also wants Guanheng to take him already.

Yukhei makes a rather pathetic noise in protest, a vocalization in his throat that contends with the usual timbre of his voice. Guanheng pushes his fingers into him again and trails kisses along his neck. It prolongs the life of Yukhei’s frustration while pushing him to the edge of his common sense.

“I’ll cry if I have to,” Yukhei says.

Guanheng smiles sweetly. “Good, you’ll have to.”

Guanheng’s words draw him in even closer. All said in good humour but it makes Yukhei deliberate further. He sighs this time, body sinking further than before—then Guanheng wraps a hand around him and Yukhei is suddenly floating. Guanheng whispers close to his jaw about how beautiful he looks like this, back arched and mouth agape.

The way Guanheng is touching him is both too much and not enough. Yukhei is having a staring contest with Guanheng and he is going to lose if he continues to dwell on being in the arms of someone he loves so deeply. His eyes grow shiny and Guanheng checks in with a kiss.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Everything’s okay. I just love you,” Yukhei says, before switching into a decidedly unthreatening tone that he can’t improve upon in his current state. “Will you just fuck me already so I can cry for a different reason?”

Guanheng laughs again, withdrawing his hands and leaving the places they were on Yukhei’s body burning.

“I love you too,” Guanheng says, and the sentiment carries into his expression as he pushes in, Yukhei’s legs tight to the sides of his waist. They both take a moment to acclimate themselves, but once Yukhei impatiently squeezes Guanheng’s shoulders, Guanheng moves just enough to hear Yukhei sob.

It’s only now that Yukhei resents the slow pace of the day. Guanheng pulls out almost entirely just to slowly sink back in, and the prolonged sensation of the stretch makes Yukhei feel like he’s without air. It’s a feat, Guanheng’s control, all to witness the fragmentation of Yukhei’s own.

Another complaint is restricted at his throat when Guanheng kisses him again with the intention to devour. It’s a mild distraction from what Yukhei needs right now but he keeps his dissatisfaction at bay. Guanheng doesn’t seem to be in a particularly compliant mood. No matter—Yukhei considers this a benefit of their time.

He can endure it for longer, even if his eyes get watery as Guanheng thrusts into him at a persistently languid pace. Despite the struggle to keep their breathing even, Guanheng licks into Yukhei’s mouth with a determination to learn its shape, memorize the curve of his tongue.

“You know,” Guanheng says, pressing their foreheads together. “I can taste that ugly habit you’ve picked up.”

“I’m trying to quit,” Yukhei says. He can feel his lashes beginning to stick together.

“Promise?” The smile on Guanheng’s face is innocent enough, but it dissolves into a smirk when he starts to pick up his speed. It’s not so suddenly fast that Yukhei can’t catch up, although it makes him wonder whether this is a punishment or a preemptive reward.

But when Yukhei’s eyes return to meet Guanheng’s and his expression is so full of love, Yukhei knows it’s something else entirely. It’s just _him_ , Yukhei thinks, and that’s already more than what he used to think he deserved. With all the love they’ve shown each other, though, Yukhei knows better now. As much as he feels loved by Guanheng, it makes Yukhei resolved to love Guanheng even more.

“Okay?” Guanheng asks again, carefully cradling one side of Yukhei’s face and thumb brushing away his tears.

Yukhei presses a kiss to his palm. “Just really emotional today.”

“I’ll make fun of you for this later.” Guanheng tries to be teasing, but he can’t hide the fondness in his smile.

Yukhei just kisses him again. Again and again. He’s content to stay here for the rest of his life, never again in orbit. In his dreams seeing the world from afar makes him ache.

Awake, Guanheng is right here, his smile and skin rich with assorted hues of life. Looking at him, Yukhei sees the leaves change colour. His heart blooms red through his chest, forever exempt from hibernation. Autumn’s palette produces colder days but Yukhei has never felt warmer.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! is there such a thing as being emotionally horny or is that just being in love
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/idle_song) | [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/idlesong)


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